"Why are you here, Avatar Korra?"

She looked up from the stilled surface of her tea, mildly surprised that he had dispensed with the pleasantries so soon. Korra and the man sat opposite one another with a low coffee table between them. His home office was a comfortable space, tucked away within the house with a garden facing window. The morning light that spilled in through the glass threw lines of gold upon the mahogany cabinets lined against the wall.

"You invited me," she answered politely.

The man smiled. "To my home, yes. To Ba Sing Se, however…"

She studied him, as she had done the moment they had sat down together. He was a small man, with a softness to his belly and narrow eyes that glimmered unnervingly. He introduced himself to her as Tao, making no mention of his affiliation to or station within the Dai Li.

"I simply wanted to experience living in a different country," she said.

"A natural impulse," Tao replied, nodding. "Curiosity is such a powerful thing, wouldn't you agree? It is of note, however, that you do not appear to be here in any official capacity. I must ask: is this part of your customary world tour?"

"No," Korra said after a brief pause. "I'm here by my own choice."

"And living under an alias."

Korra affected a smile. "I didn't want to be treated any differently to your average citizen."

"But you are the Avatar," Tao said. "Why should you feel the need to hide?"

"I'm not hiding," Korra returned politely.

Silence stretched between them after she had spoken. Gradually, the man's pleasant smile began to fade. He leaned forwards out of his seat and placed his brown, rounded cup down on the table. When he sat back, settling his hands into his lap, Tao regarded Korra with a carefully crafted expression she could not decipher. It was plain and calm, like unperturbed waters veiling the true depths that lay beneath the surface. Korra, despite herself, frowned as the man began to speak.

"When you have spent the entirety of your official term as the Avatar in Republic City, it struck oddly that you would so suddenly, and so quietly, make yourself absent. We have wondered, though we have not been able to determine, what would be the cause of such action."

Korra did not say a word in reply.

Tao continued. "When a figure with such importance as the Avatar drops off the map, so to speak, one can imagine that it would draw curiosity from numerous parties. Among our priorities is the security of Ba Sing Se, the capital of the Earth Kingdom wherein resides our King. Though the war might be long ago finished, it pays to be safe rather than sorry, wouldn't you agree? Thus our eyes and ears are sharper here. We take particular interest in all those who would seek entrance into this city."

"So you discovered me," Korra said then, having set her own hardly touched tea down on the coffee table.

Tao nodded. "I would encourage you to hold no hard feelings against Chief Shen. He is a man of principle. As an Earth Kingdom citizen, he understands where his loyalties should lie first."

"I understand," she replied, though the matter still served to irk her.

"I hope you can also understand that the secrecy of your entrance into Ba Sing Se and dwelling here served to concern us."

"I mean no harm, nor have any ill intentions," Korra said.

"So we have been told by your White Lotus, though it is reassuring to hear it from you directly."

She could hear the slight challenge in the man's tone however.

"I'm not here for any other reason but to experience life without the title of Avatar hanging over my head," Korra told him. "I needed to know what that was like. I wanted to be free from certain responsibilities and expectations."

"But you chose to take up the responsibilities of a police officer," Tao said.

"I thought that getting a new perspective on things would be useful, and more than that I still want to help people where I can."

The man nodded then and took a moment as though to consider her words, looking down to his hands.

"More than anything, Avatar Korra, I asked for this meeting in order to warn you."

"Warn me," she said, her tone cool and her expression kept plain.

"Yes," he said, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. "Your manner of entering the city and the secrecy you maintained afterwards was a fortunate stroke. As it stands right now, only select members of the Dai Li are aware of your presence here. It is important that it stays that way. It is particularly important that the King and his council remain uninformed."

Korra frowned. From the tone of the man's voice, the reason for doing so seemed to be more than the possibility of her being dragged out into the public eye and her presence in the city celebrated by the Earth King.

"Why so?"

"You are not aware then," Tao surmised from her question. He leaned forward as he spoke, eyes locked with hers. "Relations between the Earth King and United Republic Council have been strained since the beginning of his reign. The King does not like how much potential influence the Council has in his lands, and neither does he agree with its current position within the United Republic."

"Then what exactly does he want?" Korra asked, her brow raised.

"Complete autonomy of the Earth Kingdom," Tao replied.

Korra gave pause, her expression shifting in disbelief. "What benefit would come from such a thing?"

"It can be argued that the Earth Kingdom is still propping up its fellow nations in the wake of the war, particularly the Water Tribes," Tao said. "And at a time where we are beginning to experience prominent economic issues, certain suggestions can begin to become a little more appealing, both in private and publicly. Splitting away from the United Republic would also remove the influence of the Council, granting solidarity to the King's authority."

"I'm willing to assume this is more for the sake of personal power and pride than actual concern for the state of the nation."

"So some might agree," Tao said.

"But I don't see what this necessarily has to do with me," Korra continued.

"As I mentioned before, your official term as Avatar has been spent entirely in Republic City," the man explained. "The King has gone on record as affiliating you with the Council. In his eyes, your words and actions will directly represent it and its intentions."

"I see," she said after a moment.

"If you are to remain here in the city, Avatar Korra, then you must keep your identity firmly a secret. Anything you do under your title will be construed as action taken by the Council within the Earth Kingdom without the sanction or authority of the King. I don't think I need to explain the potential repercussions of that to you."

She shook her head. "No. I understand."

"No matter how small and insignificant you may think your own actions, I can assure you that there will be found a way to spin it in a negative light," Tao told her. "Even your mere presence here without the King's official knowledge will not be looked upon lightly."

"I have no intentions of doing anything except living here quietly," Korra said.

"Indefinitely?" the man asked her then.

She gave pause, her gaze momentarily dropping away. "No. Only for a short time," she answered eventually.

"Well, then I hope your stay will be an uneventful one, Avatar Korra," Tao said. "I should not like to have to clean up after you."

She looked up at him. "You won't have to."

Chief Shen looked up from the set of papers spread out before him, his pen hanging poised in the air. He turned his eyes to the door, seeing a blurred figure through the glass on the other side of it.

"Come in," he bid his visitor, an early one at that.

They complied and quietly pushed open the door of his office. When Shen was granted a proper look at her, he found himself not to be surprised. In fact, somewhere at the back of his mind since the moment the news had fallen upon his ears, he had been expecting it.

She shut the door at her back, left arm curved around her cap at her side. Through force of habit, he appraised her uniform. It was clear that she had rushed to pull it on. As though feeling his critical eye, she surreptitiously tugged at the hem of her jacket. But Shen would not have reprimanded her for its state, at least not right now. She was not coming to him in the capacity of a simple officer, and Shen was a man who had been brought up to pay proper respect to those whose station was above his. It had always sat uneasily with him to call the Avatar anything but.

"May I sit, sir?" Korra asked, standing straight with her heels together and arm by her side.

The man gestured, directing her towards the seat on the opposite side of the desk. "Yes, of course," he said. "And it is not necessary for you to call me that while it is only the two of us here."

"We're both still in uniform, sir," Korra said as she approached the desk and quietly drew out the chair.

"It should be I who is referring to you with an honorific," Shen replied as he watched her sit down, his brow creased as he interlaced his fingers.

Korra set her cap in her lap, briefly sparing a moment to straighten it so that its peak faced away from her. "You know I'd rather you didn't," she said.

"And I am asking the same," the man returned.

After giving pause, Korra relented with a soft sigh.

"I don't need to ask what brings you here," he said then, when her eyes dipped and lingered upon her hands, curved around her cap with fingers entwined.

"No," Korra said eventually. "I heard, practically the moment I walked through the doors this morning. I don't…I can't believe it."

"Not one of us would wish it to be true."

Korra shook her head. "I tried to find Officer Gan. He isn't here…?"

"No," Shen answered. "He has been granted leave."

"I can't imagine he would have liked that," Korra said quietly.

"It would be unwise to have him on active duty right now, as it would be for anyone in his situation."

"Then, his wife," Korra began uncertainly, and at her words, Shen shook his head.

"The deputy chief refuses to be anything but the exception to the rule," he said simply.

Korra inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a brief moment. When she returned her gaze to the man's in front of her, she could see that he was expectant and at the same time cautious.

"Chief," she began, "I don't think I can sit by and ignore this."

The man spread his hands. "You are who you are," he said, "but with all due respect, you must understand the delicacy of this situation and that you aren't trained in how you should approach it. Not to mention the questions that will be asked if I officially include you in the investigation. That is unless you no longer wish to disguise yourself, and even then there will still be questions."

Korra nodded slowly; there would be questions indeed, and quite possibly consequences to go along with them.

"You have been working with us for two years now," Shen continued as she looked up. "I will not deny that our service has its shortcomings. We are limited, in our strength and our ability to offer aid, but we do what we can where we can, and we do so to the best of our ability. So when it comes to meeting the needs of one of our own, I hope you can appreciate that we will do all we can to help them."

"Yes, I know," Korra said, leaning forwards and resting her hands on his desk. Her eyes were pointed low, her voice quiet when she spoke. "I just don't want to think what could happen. I don't want to think what that little girl might be going through."

"Don't," Shen told her firmly. "Our minds go to dark places and make the worst of assumptions. We hope for the best. We pray and we believe, and at no point do we give up."

Korra looked up at his words. She almost asked him to whom they should pray; in whom they should all place their hope and belief. She wondered then what might occur if she left this room not as Serra, a simple patrol officer from the Northern Water Tribe, but as herself, as the Avatar. Word would spread faster than wild flames, she was sure. It would leave the building long before she did. The day would not yet be half done before the streets would buzz with the whisper of rumours: the Avatar herself, here in Ba Sing Se.

How long would it take those whispers to reach the ears of those she did not want them to? How long before those rumours were carried to the courts of the King? And how long before they fell upon the ears of the very criminals she would reveal herself in order to find?

Gan's daughter was a poignant image before her mind's eye. She could hear the child's excited voice as clearly as if she were sitting beside her. She remembered the way Akiko smiled at her father and even the delight with which she ran towards her mother. A voice within her cried out loud and strong for action, but when she questioned it, it could tell her only that she must do something. But 'something' was not good enough, not here. Walking out of that door as Avatar Korra could very well do more harm than good, and though the chain of events that might take place as a result were but possibilities, in this she was afraid to become the catalyst.

"If there's any other way I might help," she said slowly, swallowing afterwards.

"Keep your ears and eyes open," Chief Shen told her, "and report in anything that you find suspicious, even if it seems ridiculous to you."

Korra nodded, but remained silent.

Shen regarded her. "I know how difficult it is, to appear to be doing nothing."

"No, it's not that," she said, lifting her eyes and sighing softly. "I have to accept that there are better hands than mine to deal with this. I was just remembering something." She gave a small, quiet laugh. "I once admitted to a child that my being the Avatar doesn't mean I can do everything."

Korra stood to her feet then, retrieving her cap from her lap and tucking it once more under her arm. She stood with her heels together after pushing the chair back into the position she had found it in.

"I appreciate your hearing me out, sir."

Shen frowned when she spoke. "I'm glad that you came to me first, rather than take these matters into your own hands. I assume that I'm keeping you from your own duties," he added, collecting his pen into his hand.

Korra inclined her head as the man looked down to the papers in front of him, turning smoothly towards the door afterwards.

Gan sat in moderate darkness, the curtains of the living room windows roughly pulled together. The silence that had encompassed him for hours was now ruined, the culprit an insistent, persistent knocking upon the front door. It had begun more than a minute ago. Gan had not moved since. With narrowed eyes he glared at the far wall, his chest rising and falling at a steady, even pace as he looked ahead of him, seeing and yet not.

He did not care for his prospective visitor, though he had been ordered to receive them. Chief Shen had granted him leave, and then when he had predictably refused it made it mandatory. He had been ordered to remain indoors. The Chief had informed him that an officer would come around during the following day to ensure that he was alright. Gan had already received that particular check-up, three hours earlier. He had no desire to accommodate another. He did not want to see the face of another officer, drawn in a sense of helplessness and unable to tell him where his daughter was. He did not want to hear softened, empathetic voices tell him they were sorry and that all that could be done to find her was being done. He only wanted Akiko, in his arms and crushed against his chest.

"Gan?" called out a woman's voice, sounding muffled and distant. He sat up a little when he heard it, his head turning.

"Gan," she called out again, punctuating her words with a series of knocks. "Please come to the door."

He eventually found himself moving, rising from the place from which he had remained unmoved for hours, all against his better judgement. He walked like a man drunk, trailing a hand against the wall of the hallway to steady himself as he left the living room. The woman on the other side of the door fell silent as though sensing his approach. There were no thoughts in his mind as he reached to pull it open, no surprise, relief or perhaps confusion. He was blank, his eyes hollow and dark with lack of sleep.

When he opened the front door, Serra stood there in front of him. She fidgeted as she met his unblinking gaze, rubbing her wrist with her right hand. He stepped aside as she opened her mouth to speak, not knowing or caring why he had done so. She closed her mouth and hesitated, at first looking past him before lifting her eyes to meet his again. Maybe she saw something there. Gan didn't know what it could be. He felt empty and cold. Whatever it might have been, she stepped forward and crossed the threshold into his home. He quietly pushed the door shut behind her.

Gan said nothing as he turned to face her, Serra standing by the stairs opposite him. Her gaze was soft and empathetic. She spoke only to murmur his name as she lifted a hand to his arm. There was a hard lump in his throat as Serra slowly, almost carefully, stepped closer to him. He felt himself drawn forwards into her embrace. Gan bowed his head towards her shoulder as he brought his own arms around her. He could feel her hair against his cheek, soft and thick as he closed his eyes. She whispered something – he wasn't quite sure what she said, but he felt droplets of moisture squeezed from between his eyelids. When he next drew breath, his voice was ragged. Serra held him tighter against her.

"It's okay," she told him. "It's going to be okay."

She led him into his own kitchen, which somewhere deep down amused him seeing as she had never before stepped foot into his home further than the front door. He was sat down at the kitchen table, staring blankly at its surface and listening to the rummaging around within the dish rack and then the pouring of water. He looked up only when a cool glass of water was pushed into his hands. Serra pulled the second chair around the table and sat in front of him.

"Gan," she said when he met her eyes, "everyone is doing what they can. We're going to find Akiko."

He said nothing, dropping his gaze to his hands and curving them around the base of the glass.

"Don't give up hope, Gan. You can't. She's out there somewhere, and we'll find her."

He swallowed, his grip tightening upon the glass, but he remained silent.

"Gan," Serra said, reaching forwards across the table to lay her hand upon his forearm, "talk to me. Please."

He tried, but it was difficult to get words beyond his throat. He managed it in the end, when Serra had begun to gently rub his arm, offering him comfort and strength.

"Hana didn't come home last night," he said, wondering why those were the words he chose to say. "She didn't call to tell me where she was, but I know she stayed at the station. I know that she worked all through the night, checking and double checking every last detail, like she always does. She was doing everything she possibly could to find our daughter."

"But me?" Gan continued, turning to face Serra, whose eyes were sad and dim. "I didn't do a thing. I sat here all night. My little girl could be halfway across the city by now, and I sat here, doing nothing."

"Gan…"

"I've been sitting here all day, too," he said, speaking over Serra as though her lips had not moved to utter a word. "I sat here and stared at the walls, waiting for something, anything. In the past twenty four hours, I've done nothing to help my daughter, Serra. Not one, single thing. What kind of a man am I?" he asked her. "What kind of father am I?"

"You're a good man and a good father," she told him. "But this is out of your hands, Gan. It's too big for you to handle alone. But we're here for you, all of us, and you can be damn sure we'll do our best to find Akiko and bring her back to you."

"You're wrong," he said then, shaking his head and meeting her confused gaze. "This isn't out of my hands."

He pushed his chair back, its legs scraping loudly against the floor as he pulled his arm out from beneath Serra's hand. She looked up at him as he stood to her feet, concern shaping her dark features.

"Gan –"

"I won't sit around any longer doing nothing to get back my little girl, Serra," he growled. "All I can see when I close my eyes is her face. All I can hear is her voice, crying out for me. And you're telling me I should just sit here and hope for the best?"

"That's not what I meant," she said quickly, lifting her hands.

"Everyone, my wife, the officers out on the streets looking for my daughter, the people Chief Shen has trying to find out who the bastards are that took her – everyone but me is out there doing something," Gan said, the hand at his side curling into a fist as he lifted the other and pointed into Serra's face. "And you can be sure that I'm damn well going to do something too."

She was on her feet a few moments later as he turned and swept out the room. Gan ignored her questions as he moved to find his coat and keys, stomping up the stairs in order to retrieve the latter. When he reached his and Hana's bedroom, he roughly pulled open the pair of drawers that stood at his side of the bed, in his dark and single-minded mood forgetting into which one of them he deposited his keys the previous day. Once he had them in hand, the upper drawer left lopsided and overhanging the lower, Gan stalked out of the room. Serra was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. "Gan," she said, but he pushed past her.

He did not make it another step before he felt a strong grip close around his left upper arm. Serra whirled him around as she pushed him backwards, putting his back against the wall of the hallway. She boldly met his dark glare, her own expression hard.

"Gan, listen to me," she told him, holding his arm tightly. "I understand –"

"You don't understand anything," he spoke over her.

"Just listen," she insisted.

"You're wasting my time, Serra. You're wasting Akiko's time!"

"Gan –"

"Let go of me," he told her. "Get out of my way. I don't want to fight you."

"Then don't."

"Let. Go. Of me," he growled.

"Not until you listen –"

Gan pulled out of her grip before she had finished speaking, pushing away from the wall and overcoming her strength. She tried to obstruct him again, but Gan lifted his right arm to her chest as though to sweep her out of his path. Serra caught his wrist while his arm was still bent at the joint, forcing it down and then back up in a circular motion. She dumped her weight onto her leading foot as she stepped into him, overbalancing him and a moment later slamming his outstretched arm against the wall. Before Gan could properly react, she lifted her right hand and slammed her palm to the wall just above his arm. Gan heard a sudden dry screech. He blinked afterwards.

His arm was fastened to the wall…by the wall itself. Locked in place.

Gan slowly turned his eyes from his captured limb to Serra, who had stepped back away from him to meet his gaze. It did not even occur to him, though it would have been easily done, to free himself.

"Serra," he said carefully, "you're a waterbender."

"I am," she replied, "and much more."

Gan turned again to his arm, trapped against the wall by a means not of his own making. And he told her so, though she did not need to hear it. But he did, because disbelief still had him clutched in its numbing grip.

"I didn't do this."

"No," she said. "I did."

He turned back to her. "Serra –"

"I'm not Serra," she spoke over him, giving a small, apologetic shake of her head. "I'm sorry. My name is Korra."

"Korra," he repeated, his voice softened by shock and his thoughts having ground to a halt.

"Listen to me, Gan," the woman he knew and yet did not asked of him. "I understand," she said, "more than you know, I understand. I know what it's like to want – to need to take matters into your own hands because everyone around you is too slow, or isn't doing enough, or simply because you have to do it because no one else can, or no one else will. I understand that, do you hear me?"

"But there will be consequences to your actions, Gan," Korra continued with a heavy sigh, and it was as though he saw a great weight settle upon her shoulders as she released it. "We don't really understand the price we must for what we have done until it's all over. We become so single-minded and driven that we forget to consider how our actions might affect those around us. Believe me, Gan, when I say that I have paid a heavy price, all because I felt the need to do something; to do what was needed."

She looked up at him then, with bright blue eyes that had grown older, wiser and pained.

"Gan, you don't know what you could set in motion by walking out of that door. You don't know the price you might have to pay."

"I just want my daughter back," he said softly, so very softly.

"I know," she answered him. "I just don't want you to walk the same path I did. I've been afraid every day since then that I've lost the person I cherish the most because of it."

Gan's arm dropped away from the wall when Korra lifted hers and made a small gesture. He heard rather than saw the swift and crudely fashioned restraint sinking out of sight, though the wall bore the scar where it had been torn. He brought his hand up to the other, almost completely unaware of the motion as he slowly rubbed his wrist. He looked at the woman in front of him, who he knew and yet did not, and the fire that had seemed to consume him mere minutes ago dwindled in her presence. In its place was a cold sense of desperation, spreading from the pit of his stomach to his limbs and rendering him helpless.

"What would you have me do?" he said quietly, almost hopelessly. "Should I just sit here and wait?"

"No," the woman who called herself Korra told him. "I ask you to trust those who are working in your stead to find Akiko. I ask you to trust me, Gan. I promise you, on my word, that we will find your daughter."

Gan swallowed, unable to take his eyes away from the intensity of Korra's gaze. They wanted to rise and turn across to the front door, to remind him that his daughter was still out there, crying for him, and that he had to do something. But Korra's eyes held him. They held him until he could see her spoken promise written there upon her gaze. And despite the voice that gave a defiant shout within him, Gan eventually nodded in answer to it.

Afterwards, when he realised what he had done, Gan brought his hands to his face and hung his head low. His back slid down the face of the wall until he felt the floor beneath him. He felt her crouch down beside him, with a hand that moved slowly between his shoulders offering him comfort.

"We will find her," the Avatar promised him.

And no matter how willingly he clung to them, her voice swept away all his doubts.